Chamomile
by kuro-d
Summary: Elsa loves tea. Surprisingly, she loves to read. She loves meddling herself in social and political matters. Maybe she loves cold and winter slightly more than other people. But, she's still your ordinary lady. Although an ordinary lady normally doesn't befriend a paperboy, no matter how good-looking, chatty, or friendly he is. [JacksonxElsa, Victorian AU]
1. Day 1

Hello everyone! This is my entry for Spring!Jelsa Week. The story consists of 7 chapters in total, each will be submitted per day.

Thank you so much for my squad: _saturnxk_ & _xxscarletxrosexx_ as my beta readers (and also awesome writing gurus) 33

This is my 2nd time writing for Jelsa, after I discontinued the 1st one. I'm sorry in advance for my grammars and other mistakes ;u; but I hope you'll like it!

 **DISCLAIMER: RoTG belongs to Dreamworks and Frozen to Disney.**

 **SPRING JELSA WEEK DAY 1: "Comfort"**

 **Day 1# Prologue**

* * *

London had never felt this cold.

The snow had just started falling last night, but people could no longer tell the difference. All they knew was that they started getting used to the frostbite and empty streets. Some people decided to just stay and rest at home. While others, whether they wanted it or not, had work or two to do in this chilly weather.

Elsa, was neither both.

The daughter of the head shipments and trades in England was unlike most people, or at least, most ladies. Her violet velvet dress, despite wrapping her figure from neck to toe, contained nothing but few layers underneath. The shawls around her shoulder hadn't convince its warmness either. But her calm demeanour and her reading of " _The Condition of the Working Class in England_ " in front of the dim light of the fireplace, were enough to convince people that they were bestowed by a magnificent, beautiful, and warming scene.

Indeed, the blessing of having an angel-like figure.

It was still early morning, the streak of orange slowly creeping and tearing, finally gave colours to the ever dull, pale sky. Today seemed to be warm and bright. The long wait was finally over.

But it was just another usual day for Winters' household. Their town house, still the same quiet and cold, with the only source of warmth coming from the parlour and the kitchen.

"I take it you borrowed something from my study room again."

The platinum blonde-haired lady looked up. Her lips turned into a smile upon a man who just came inside the living room. Her plan had succeeded.

"I can't help it, they are really interesting," she neatly placed the book on the table. "Are you going out today, Dad?"

"Yes," the said man, no other than Lord Agdar Winters, was Elsa's father. He had a perfectly combed strawberry blond hair and well-trimmed pencil moustache. His freshly ironed shirt and vest were a perfect combination for an important gentleman such as him.

He fixed his tie once again, not bothering to look upon his daughter's eyes. "This snow's causing too many problems. The labourers are protesting."

"Are they asking for day-off's? You should grant their wishes once in a while," Elsa took his usual brown coat, carefully wrapping it around him.

"If only things are that easy," he checked his collar once more, but Elsa had made sure everything's perfect.

"No, I mean, by making shifts and rotating the day-off, you can-"

"Is the carriage ready? Well, I'll be taking my leave now," he put his hat, then heading for the door, leaving the platinum blonde's lips parting, still miles away from finishing her sentences. She sighed. It's not like she could do anything about it after all.

"Oh right, I just received an invitation from Lord Henderson. It's another party invitation, you might as well attend it in my place," he paused for a moment. "If I recall correctly, they have 13 sons. It can't hurt to get to know and get along with at least one of them."

"You mean, I must attend the party," Elsa emphasized, in which her father proceeded to not respond, and decided to walk out the door. Elsa silently followed as he talked to the butlers regarding the preparations and other stuff, which Elsa could have been known if she had been given the chance. But no, instead, she was given another kind of chance. And that was the very reason why she ended up in the town house.

The door opened and the harsh wind greeted their faces. Lord Winters slowly turned to her daughter again for the last time, searching her face. His expression softened.

"You know I have hope in you, Elsa," and there's something in his tone that Elsa noticed. It's not a command, nor even a trust. It's a borderline between both, coming from the weakest heart of a father. It's a concern.

Elsa smiled, as she always had, and as usual, even the cold weather wasn't able to take away the radiating warmth coming from those curved lips.

Then, as gentle as ever, she replied.

"I will not disappoint you, Dad."

Only to have her voice blown in the wind, drowning among the footsteps of the horses of his father's carriage, where its silhouette slowly vanished at the end of the street.

Elsa didn't budge from where she stood. She continued standing there, immersing herself in the scene, for she knew, it would take maybe a week, a month, or if she's lucky, several days until he returned home.

Or if the stars above granted it, he would come home tonight.

"He misses the morning paper again, eh?"

A very familiar, friendly, deep voice broke her reverie. She was pulled back to reality, where snow covered her surroundings and wind blew the locks of her hair.

Elsa wasted no time to turn around and sighed, albeit playfully.

"Well, isn't it Mister Overland," she paused, eyes instantly focused on his feet. "My God, you're not wearing shoes again. Don't tell me you've been like that in this snow?"

In front of her, stood a man with an unkempt chestnut hair and fair, tanned skin. He wore a dishevelled shirt, patched brown trousers which stopped around his ankles, and straps to keep them together, because heaven knew, those clothes were totally oversized on him. A worn out leather bag slung across his shoulder, full with papers and letters. He grinned upon her remarks, showing his perfectly white teeth. No one could deny that he's good looking, despite his wardrobe of choice. He could even melt any ladies' hearts if he wanted to. He was Jack Overland, a friendly and overly charming paperboy.

"You know shoes never worked on me, milady," the said man bowed, curtseying as a high-class gentleman would do. Was it for formality or joke, Elsa couldn't tell. He was always unpredictable.

She let out a sigh. "Your feet will get frostbites if you keep doing that in this cold weather." She eyed his pair of bare feet, concern filling her tone. "I'll ask the butler to get you a pair, come in."

Jack stepped back a little, hands rejecting. "Oh, none of that, milady. Please, no need to trouble yourself."

"I insist, Jack."

He feigned an offended look. "Ladies and their obstinacy. Never trying to argue with 'em."

At his remarks, Elsa couldn't help but chuckle. "You know you couldn't live without them."

He gave her a dour look but ceded the point. Elsa led him inside the house into the front parlour, calling up the butler to supply the said man's needs. Luckily they didn't meet any trouble as his foot size wasn't much different with them.

"How am I supposed to pay all this piling debts?" he finally spoke after the butler gave him a pair of leather shoes, of matching colour with his trousers. He also got a pair of socks as addition. "You know I don't earn enough money for this kind luxury."

Elsa had grown accustomed to all his antics, therefore she didn't feel the need to comment back anymore. She thanked the butler for his help and his tea as he excused himself. Her companion still busy pacing the room (Elsa took it he's testing his new shoes), murmuring debts and all other unnecessary complains.

"Tea?"

"As far as I remember, I came here to deliver morning papers, not to raid a house empty," Jack pouted, finally seating himself on a sofa across her, right in front of the cup of tea presented to him.

It's had always been like this whenever they met. Jack would throw some comments and childish tantrums, making jokes, and Elsa would just roll her eyes or sometimes smile, all in amusement. The first time they met was when Elsa had just moved to the town house for political matters-or at least that's how his father put it because Elsa didn't feel like she's really included in the political discussion. Every morning he would deliver some papers, and Elsa would sometimes catch him as she's sending her father out for departure. Although it had only been 3 months since they first met, they've been quite a pair of good friends ever since.

"You won't raid a house empty just by having a tea, Jack," Elsa giggled, gesturing a hand over her lips as a proper lady would do.

"A tea and a pair of shoes," he added. "And a possibility that it will happen constantly every morning from now on."

She sipped her tea slowly. "That's what we all mostly do, so rest assure."

"Being nobles are surely boring, eh?" he cooed, proceeding to sip his own as well. After a moment of pause, he finally decided to bring up the topic.

"So, I take it Lord Winters is on business trip again?"

Elsa sighed as she placed the cup back on its plate. "Unfortunately, yes. I believe it has something to do with the labours. I read yesterday's paper and since then, father had been unable to stay calm."

"So you read yesterday's paper too? Things have been a mess indeed. And here people are blaming on the weather."

"I'm really sorry you weren't able to meet him up until now."

Jack shrugged, "Well, I'm so eager to meet the infamous Lord Winters." Elsa raised her eyebrow, in which Jack had to defend himself with ' _Who's not?_ '

"But it's not like someone like me could hold him down from important business just to say hi, right?" Coming from him, somehow it sounded cocky instead of humble, and Elsa had to suppress her urge to quip his statement with all her might.

"And your sister?" he heard before that she had a sister, but he never caught her in sight, even after he was finally invited inside.

"She's in the main manor."

"Wow," Jack whistled. "Must be pretty lonely for a lady occupying this big house alone," he's observing the whole room, eyeing every ornaments and antiques. It was his first time brought inside. Usually, they only talked outside, since he had no business of coming inside too, being a paperboy. "If you count out the butlers and maids, of course."

His words left Elsa a bit speechless. She hated it when he does that. Not an actual real hate, but she did feel weak when he's easily exposing her problems. It seemed like he could see right through her eyes. She'd be lying if her reason inviting him in was not partially because she needed some company; someone she could talk, listen, or discuss some stuffs. She didn't know how to put it, but instead of her butlers, maids, or even her chaperone, Jack seemed to be the best person for the task. Especially in this cold, lonely winter.

But she's a lady, the daughter of Winters family. So she straightened her spine, fixing her position to sit regally. Trying to gather all her composure.

"I wouldn't complain about that."

At her answer, Jack only smirked.

"Of course you wouldn't. You are much stronger than that."

And there's something in his tone that filled her heart with comfort.

"Alright'y. Should get going now because people are eagerly waiting for me," he raised from his seat, slinging his bag to his shoulder again.

Elsa rolled her eyes. "You mean, they're waiting for your papers."

Jack winked. "Might as well be waiting for me."

He bowed to her again as they arrived in front of the house, bidding goodbye. "Thank you so much for the shoes and the tea, Miss Elsa Winters. Allow me to repay your debt one day. But not now, sadly, urgent matters call me."

He grinned as he walked away in his pair of new shoes, waving to her for the last time. Elsa watched his back as he visited her neighbour, the next house, and the next again, until she could no longer see him.

But weird. Unlike the heavy feelings she had when her father left, this time her heart felt lighter.

The snowing had stopped and the sun finally took over the sky, embracing the city with warmth they had been longing.

* * *

Flames dancing on the woods, trapping them inside the marble frames. The sound of burning lumbers creaked in the silence that had been wrapping the study room of the Henderson household.

A man, on his early thirty's, was sorting a pile of papers and documents scattered on the table. The frown between his eyebrows somehow had been part of his frame for as long as he could remember. He wasn't the office type to begin with, and yet there he was, sitting like a governor. But, for the sake of the better, he's trying his best to finish his part. Stamping, signing, stashing. He'd been doing those repetitive tasks all night. He sighed.

He was too focused that he almost didn't notice the knocks on the door.

"Oh, it's you," he said coldly, after glancing to the party that had disturbed his works.

"I thought maybe you could use some coffee and a company," the man on the door stepped aside, allowing the maid to enter in with a tray on her hands. Two cups of coffee were placed on the small table beside the desk, and she excused herself out of room. "I've asked the maid to brew us the best one," he added as he took a seat across him.

"What do you want?" the other man spat.

"Please, no need to raise your tone, brother. I'm merely here to help," exalted the younger one.

The older and also the busier one, snorted. He proceeded back to his works.

"Wow. Look at all the works entrusted to you. Must be tiring to have them all done without getting any credits."

He shot a glare at the statement.

"I'm just sorting the invitation and reply letters," his eyes piercing at the younger one. "I know my place. And you should know yours."

The younger raised both hands defensively, still maintaining his composure. "I know, I know. I just think you deserve more."

At his silent reply, the young one decided to eye over all the scattered papers. One fancy envelope caught his attention, but it was merely the name written there than the ornament that did.

He took it to get a better look.

"No, he won't come," the older noticed his brother piqued interest in that certain letter. "He has too many problems in his hands to handle already, and an anniversary party is none of them."

His guest didn't reply, still pondering about the letter.

"But it's written they will attend the party."

"Someone will come in his place."

Reading the details written on the letter again, the younger one smirked.

"I see."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoy it so far, next chapter tomorrow ^u^**

 **Thank you for reading! xx**


	2. Day 2

Hello everyone!

Despite Spring Jelsa Week already over long time ago, I still owe you the story. Sorry for the 3 months delay ;A; I'll try to finish next chapter sooner. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy this one!

Thank you so much for _xxscarletxrosexx_ for the beta! You'll be an amazing English teacher, really XD and to _snowshoe-rabbit_ for your bluntness, as usual.

 **DISCLAIMER: RoTG belongs to Dreamworks and Frozen to Disney.**

 **SPRING JELSA WEEK DAY 2: "Holding Hands"**

 **Day 2#**

* * *

"I think I'll cut their salary in return of their day-off. So it's only fair, right? What do you think?"

She tapped her fingers, thinking hard. A manner that's actually a tad uncharacteristic for her tier.

"I have to say no, Ma'am. Don't you know the fishermen currently concerned with the overpricing of camisoles?" He said in almost a melodic voice, looking around distractedly.

She frowned. His answer weren't helping her in the slightest at all. It added more confusion, if in the least.

"I fail to see the connection, Mr. Overland. Do you care to elaborate? Why do they have to worry over things they barely even wear?"

"It's not… about them," he paused, trying to search the right words as if he's faced between life and death.

"It's about their wives!"

* * *

"Morning, milady! Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Good morning and happy Thanksgiving to you too, Jack." She noticed the amount of plastic bags in his hands. "My, that's quite a lot of stuffs you carry. Aren't they heavy? Do you need any help?"

"Nah, they're not as heavy as they look," he lifted them up, assuring her. "The household next door currently short on cooks, so they asked my help to buy something for tonight's dinner. It's a little bit tricky because the lady is on diet."

"That's very kind of you, Jack. What did you get in the end?"

"Well, vegetables are must on a diet. So I bought pumpkin pie, zucchini bread, and carrot cake!"

* * *

"I wonder why some people call you the Ice Queen when your smile so bright and warm it could melt an ice."

"W-who did they call the Ice Queen?"

* * *

The celebration was still in a week, but it felt like Christmas already; the warm atmosphere of the streets, delightful decorations adorning the doors, and fragrant foods on the displays.

As the sun drawing line between dark and light, the town started coming alive. For once, the freezing weather failed to lull them back to home. The thoughts of holiday, moment where families finally gathered once in a year, parties and celebrations, were enough to light the spirit of the people.

And apparently, a certain paperboy, was no exception.

"You're earlier than usual today, Jack," Elsa greeted him as she walked out the door.

He grinned. "Perhaps I just want to catch you, milady."

Jack looked amicably different that day. He still had his untamed hair and worn out shirt, but for once he didn't have dirt with him. It appeared he finally gave attention for immaculacy. _Funny_ , Elsa thought. Such a little change somehow could give a different impression.

"Well, you did. I'm about to go shopping."

"Ooh. Nice. Shopping," he repeated airily. "Women really like to do that."

Elsa crossed her arms, raising a brow. "Do you have any urgent business with me? Or do you simply have problem with women going for shopping in general? "

"What if I say I just wanted to see your face?"

It rolled from his tongue so easily it almost sounded natural. If Elsa hadn't known him better, she would have reacted differently. But this was Jack. So instead, she maintained her composure. Trying to look unaffected. _Trying_.

"You saw me yesterday. And you will see me again tomorrow. Basically you see me every day, Jack."

Jack laughed. "Indeed, indeed."

He then shoved his hand into his leather bag, searching for something. Elsa tilted her head a bit, curious. He caught her eyes staring when he looked up again and Elsa had to fake a cough.

"So," she prompted. "Is there something you need from me?"

"Not really," he pulled out his hand and there's a small envelope on it. "Just a different package. You have a very special letter today."

"Oh," Elsa was a bit surprised. Jack might be a paperboy, but he sometimes assisted people with various things. However, delivering letters was something new. Or at least, something Elsa just knew. _A special letter_ even.

"What is it, pray tell?" _Pray tell it's not a telegram from my father_. Elsa had begun to fidget with her fingers, unconsciously pinching her silky gloves. Telegrams didn't usually bring good news with them.

"It's a love letter."

She blinked.

He purposely paused for a moment, waiting for her reaction. Naturally, she's expected to be blushing. Naturally, a lady would be at a loss of words. And Elsa was indeed at a loss of words, but for entirely different reason.

 _Love letter!_ The first thing came to her was relief. At least it's not the worst she'd expected, though still quite surprising. Elsa wondered how he managed to keep a straight face.

"And from your secret admirer, I believe," he added, followed with his signature smirk.

It was getting dubious and Elsa would have none of it, if this was one of his pranks again. She decided to play along, nonetheless.

"My God, that's so lovely," she hovered a hand over her chest. "And you sure you don't know who this secret admirer is?"

"I wonder about that too, Ma'am," he shrugged, flipping the letter back and forth as if searching for its sender. Elsa had to resist the urge to roll her eyes out of their socket because the way he put it just so obvious.

Jack stepped closer.

"But one thing I'm sure about, this letter must be _special_ because it's addressed to _someone special_ too."

And Elsa was reminded once again about what she noted just several minutes ago: that he was different today.

Jack was always a tease. Always a banter. Sometimes he's even almost suggestive. But it had always balanced on the invisible borderline, which, a moment ago, he'd just crossed past it.

Suddenly, there's no more playful tone in his voice. No more smart comments, no more smug grins. Only a softened gaze, an unreadable expression, and a gentle breeze blowing the dry atmosphere.

 _Someone special like you_.

Those words somehow echoing in her ears, triggering weird sensation in her stomach.

Silence dropped between them and Elsa realized she has to say something. But as she searched for the right words, Jack's slowly approaching her, closing the gap between them and Elsa could feel her legs gradually going numb, locking her in place. Her heart had begun to beat a little bit faster as he stared, a pair of honey coloured spheres piercing deep into her. He leaned in and his face was so close she could count the freckles and sunburn and every strands on his brows. She closed her eyes at the proximity, she didn't know why but she just did. Wait, had she just bitten her own lips too?

She could feel his breath tingling her skin.

"You know, I notice it also smells like rose," he suddenly brought the letter up between them and Elsa jolted.

"Re… really?" she responded posthaste, albeit stuttered. Her hand fumbled and tugged a strand behind her ear nervously, in attempt to hide her racing heart. It's as if she was just pulled back to earth she hadn't recalled ever leaving.

Slowly, Elsa could feel both her legs again, steady and firm footing on the ground. But as much as she felt grateful, a part of her somehow felt disappointed for a reason she couldn't figure out.

"Milady," a hoarse voice suddenly interjected.

She turned around to see her coachman standing next to the carriage, eyes tired and nose reddened. Then it dawned to her how much time she had just wasted. She didn't actually intend to make him wait.

"I'm afraid we have to go now, or we wouldn't have much time left to prepare later," the man addressed anxiously, fiddling with his hat.

Elsa quickly apologized. "Yes, right, I'm sorry, Emmet."

When she turned to face Jack again, he already returned to his usual self, eyes beaming and hair tinted with the sunlight.

"Well. You hear him, ma'am. Dun wanna be late for whatever plans you have today," he cooed, handing her the letter once more.

She was hesitant for a moment, but then she gave in. "I'm really sorry Jack. We shall continue our talk again tomorrow."

The tip of their fingers brushed as the letter passed on and they lingered there longer than necessary. Elsa could feel the roughness of his skin through the thin layer of her gloves. They stared at each other again, but this time, no more doubt, no more hesitancy. The corner of Elsa's lips slowly curved into a smile.

"Please send my gratitude to the sender."

Jack flashed a grin.

Elsa climbed into the carriage and Jack stayed there, until the coach slowly vanished from sight.

* * *

The Westergard's castle was as big as the Winters, or so Elsa noted upon arriving in the front gate. Wrought-iron fence surrounded the well-tended lawn, freshly painted exterior, fashionable building, people would admit the Henderson has quite the taste. And on this particular night, the castle was really lively and bustling, though busier than its usual or not Elsa couldn't tell. It was her first time visiting the household, though not her first time attending an anniversary party.

A good number of carriages pulled in at the front, disgorging some of the very highest and most progressive politicians, aristocrats, and artists. Elsa had met some of them in previous occasions (though not actually talking, her father did most of the jobs), meanwhile others from newspaper. And the rest, she assumed they're all as much people of high value and integrity too.

As the butler kept her evening cloak, she took a deep breath and entered the manor. For this very occasion, the tailor had picked a beautiful evening gown with a low square neckline, despite however Elsa opposed the idea. It's not the cold that she minds, but the unnecessary attention that came after. Her hair was gathered in a low coiffure, dressed with fresh lilacs and roses. Her overall dress was actually simple, but her porcelain skin and platinum hair were doing good job in gathering the attention. As soon as she had stepped inside the hall, she could feel a number of eyes on her.

"Miss Winters, I assume?" a soft, gentle voice greeted her. Elsa turned around to find a man, probably in his late twenty's or early thirty's. Because despite he looked so much younger, such demeanour couldn't possibly be possessed by a young man. He had an azure blue eyes and his seamless waistcoat matched perfectly in colour with his sandy hair.

"Yes, that would be me. Good evening… Mr?"

"William Henderson, pleasure to meet you, Miss Winters," he bowed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. She had expected to meet the host, but not this sooner. Not when she just stepped right into the mansion. She'd been told once about the Henderson family, but she still hadn't been able to memorize all the sons. If Elsa wasn't mistaken, then he's the fifth, no, fourth in the line.

"The pleasure is mine, Lord William," Elsa curtseyed. "I apologize on behalf of my father, please do excuse him for his lack attendance to this party. I hope the Earl is doing well, my father sends his regards."

He smiled.

"Father is doing well. Both father and I were really excited to meet Lord Winters, but we understand given the circumstances."

"Thank you for the understanding."

Soon, Elsa found herself in his company. William Henderson was what exactly you would call a perfect gentleman. He was polite, intellectual, and enlightening. As a gentleman, he's also avoids every topic that considered improper for a lady, and Elsa found it a bit discouraging.

"Now now, milady. Touching a controversial subject, aren't we?"

"I say it's now the time for a proper and fair wage, some people are giving a lot more arduous efforts and they don't get what they deserve."

"And I say, you don't need to worry so much, milady. It's not good for your health," and he expressed, appeared genuinely concerned. Elsa had just realized she went a bit off-limit. Maybe she shouldn't really push her interests. She was reminded again why she prefered to read books and papers rather than opening an actual discussion; they presented her with more feedback and information.

She hid her disappointment nonetheless.

"Oh," the young lord's eyes suddenly darted to the door, and Elsa followed. A beautiful lady with mahogany hair had just entered the hall, she appeared not much older than Elsa. With an earnest regret and an apologize, the young lord excused himself. Elsa watched as he made his way to the lady, greeted and talked to her. He looked even beaming in her presence than when he had been conversing with Elsa.

Elsa just stared at them, wondering what to do. With William leaving her, she just realized how lonely she was. A moment before she enjoyed it, then suddenly she didn't. When did she become so desperate?

 _You are a special someone for me_.

She quickly dismissed voice in the back of her mind. Right now, she's in a political business, she shouldn't be concerned over trivial matters. Such as love letter shouldn't be the main of her problems, and it should never be. She decided maybe she should just properly meet the Earl himself, rather than letting her head roam into delusional thoughts. She's hesitantly approaching William, wondering if she could ask him a last little favour.

"I wouldn't bother them if I were you."

A sudden, husky voice came from behind her. Elsa turned around, and this time, she remembered. His name crossed her mind, despite she never actually met in person.

"Lord Hans, good evening." She curtseyed, registering his copper red hair and long sideburns. The man stood before her had a prominent nose and a strong jaw-line, and a pair of tawny eyes. He wore a greyish tailcoat, pure white cravat emphasizing his pleasant feature. However, he sighed upon the title, albeit humbly.

"Please, none of that, Miss Winters. I'm barely in the line, so please, just my name is fine," he reasoned. "Hans Christian Henderson, at your service."

He was actually being reasonable. Hans was the youngest, the thirteenth son of the Henderson. People barely remembered until the tenth, and most of them lost it at fourth or fifth. Elsa gave him a sympathetic look.

"That's really modest of you, milord. I shall accept the generosity. In return, please do address me the same. My name is Elsa Winters." Despite addressing him by first name was considered unethical, Elsa wasn't the type to make someone feel uneasy.

"Thank you then, Miss Elsa," he smiled. "My apologies for being so direct before, but I saw you approaching my brother and his newly engaged fiancé, so I thought I should notify you."

"It's simply, Mr Hans," Elsa was actually quite surprised with his concerns over minor matters. It somehow showed how caring he was to his elder brothers. "I was about to ask the Earl's whereabouts so I can meet him in person."

"Ah," Hans gaped. "Father has a sudden meeting with several important people in his office right now," he gave her a remorse look. "But I can help you. I'll inform the maid so father will be notified."

"Oh!" Elsa raised her hand. "Please, no need to trouble yourself, Sir. I understand the circumstances. I shall not bother him with my mere visit."

"Believe me, he'll be more than glad to meet the daughter of Lord Agdar himself," Hans assured. Elsa wasn't really sure how to respond. She was glad with his help, but at same time she couldn't help but feeling guilty for troubling both the Lord and the young Lord.

"Shall we wait in back parlour, then?" Hans prompted, offering his white gloved hand.

Elsa smiled, straightened her posture and took his hand. Gracefully, like a proper lady she should be.

"Yes. Thank you."

But as his hand led her inside the manor, she wondered why a rough, dirty bare hand could feel warmer than this.

* * *

"You are _earlier_ than usual, my Lord."

"Alright, none of that," he groaned. He could tell sarcasm when it's meant for him. Not that it was being subtly put after all.

"Well, considering you've been chasing your own tail, I'm a bit surprised you actually make it home this time," the other man continued, not bothering to even hold back a bit. He examined his Lord head to toe, then smiled dryly. "And good thing to see you in complete piece too, my Lord."

"I have no time for your sour opinion, _my dearest friend_ ," he replied again, fixing the tie that was just handed to him.

"I shall remember that next time my Lord ask for one then," he retorted, calmly offering a vest and coat to him. "Black, my Lord?"

"I'd take the brown one," he pointed. "The mourning time is over."

Draping the coat over his vest, he checked himself on the mirror once again. Then he smirked.

"I have a party to attend, after all."

* * *

 **In case you're confused, so Henderson is the family name and Westergard is the area name. Hence, can be used for castle or title, such as Westergard Castle or Earl of Westergard. I came up with this after The Atlantean reminded me of Hans' last name ^^ thank you for your input!**

 **Also thank you for all your fav & reviews! Sorry if I can't reply them, this website blocked in my country so it's hard to open it sometimes. However I'm always available on my tumblr, so you can message me there for faster response. Until next chapter! Xxox**


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